Resolution
by harllett
Summary: It is a race against time when Djaq returns with news of the King. There is a voyage across the sea, a capture in Nottingham, and one final battle to save the throne from corruption. Will/Djaq Allan/OC sequel to Retribution/Redemption but can be read alon
1. Happy reunion

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the BBC Robin Hood characters. Or the plot, which is a shame, because they did ridiculous things like kill Marian.

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** It is a race against time when Djaq returns with news of the King. There is a voyage across the sea, a capture in Nottingham, and one final battle to save the throne from corruption. Will/Djaq Allan/OC

**Author's Note:** Well, here we are! The final story of the trilogy! When I started out I thought I'd be lucky if I got through one story with people liking it, and here we are with the third!

This is the sequel to Retribution and Redemption, but I honestly don't think you need to have read those first. There are recaps below to help you out. If you want to read the stories, don't look at the recaps!

**Basic recap of Retribution:** It was set post-Holy Land and the outlaws were joined by Cassie, a noble whose father lost their estate, turning her into a maid. A friend of hers, Cam, joined them too, but turned out to be a traitor - the plan was for Cassie's master to get her back, and for the Sheriff to get the whole gang. As the story ended Allan and Cassie had admitted their feelings for one another, but Cassie learned of Allan's treachery and decided they could not act on their feelings. Cam had betrayed her, and she didn't think she could cope with being betrayed again.

**Basic recap of Redemption:** Will returned, with news that the King had a son called William, who would be the heir to the throne once the King returned and married Esther, the child's mother. Robin, John, Allan and Much rode north to protect the child whilst Cassie and Will stayed in Nottingham to investigate a forest fire. They found it had been started by a bitter young man named Tristan, who had a connection to Esther and William. He rode north with Cassie and Will to warn Robin of an ambush by Gisborne. The ambush happened, and Esther was killed, meaning that William could no longer be heir to the throne. The outlaws returned Tristan and William to their home, Nettlestone, and attended a Midsummer's Eve celebration, during which Allan and Cassie finally kissed!

* * *

**Chapter 1: Happy reunion**

It was a peaceful afternoon in the outlaw's camp, deep in Sherwood Forest. Summer was in full swing, and after making deliveries in the morning Robin Hood's band of outlaws had retreated to the shade of the forest to relax.

In fact, only Allan and John were managing to relax, the others finding it difficult to keep still. John was snoozing in his bunk, his deep rumbling snores disturbing the peace. The others were above the camp, on the top of the ravine in which it nestled. Robin was shooting arrows at random, tiny targets whilst Will and Cassie tested out a couple of new swords they had acquired. Allan lay back against a tree, watching them lazily through half-closed eyes. Much had disappeared about an hour previously after a row with Allan, muttering something about mushrooms.

Cassie swung the sword she held in long, lazy arcs, Will slowly parrying her blows with his axe. "Balance seems good," she commented as she withdrew from a blow and examined the blade. "How does it look to you, Allan?"

"Looks pretty good from where I'm sitting," he replied with a wink, and Cassie rolled her eyes but couldn't stop herself blushing.

It had been a few days since their kiss at the Midsummer celebrations and things were still a bit strange. Good strange though, Cassie thought as she looked at Allan, who had stripped down to a light cotton shirt in the heat. Blushing again she turned back to Will, who was smiling knowingly. She stuck her tongue out childishly at him and lifted her sword again.

Just as she brought it down against Will's axe there was a shout through the trees.

"Wagon!" Much shouted, stumbling towards them, concentrating on the basket he carried so no precious mushrooms spilled out. "Coming from the south."

The well-practised outlaws moved swiftly into action, scrambling down into the ravine. As Robin carried out the unwelcome task of waking John, the others gathered bows and swords before hurrying towards the south road.

A small wagon was moving slowly up the dirt track, pulled by an old horse and driven by a large, rotund man shrouded in a brown cloak despite the heat.

Robin nodded to his comrades and Allan, Cassie and Much all loosed arrows, the shafts burying themselves in the dirt as they landed ahead of the horse. The animal pulled up in fright as Robin followed the arrows, jumping down onto the road.

"Consider yourself ambushed," he said to the man with a grin.

The man squinted down at him. "Ambushed? There's only one of you, and I –" he indicated himself "- am more than a match for you." He let out a loud hiccup and Allan nudged Cassie with a wink, spotting the flagon of wine that sat on the seat beside him.

Robin slowly walked towards the wagon. "One – I am not alone." He gestured towards the tree line where the five outlaws had emerged into sight. "And two – you are drunk."

"I – _hic_ – am not drunk!" the man protested, lumbering down from his seat until he stood facing Robin. "I am a man of the cloth!"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid even God's men have to pay up. We're taking a tenth of what you have, unless you make the unwise decision to resist."

"How – _hic_ - dare you!" The man drew himself up to his full height. "I am Friar Tuck, and I shall have safe passage through this forest! I have precious cargo to deliver, but it will not be of interest to you."

"Precious cargo?" Robin repeated. "Sounds intriguing."

"Can we just take the haul and get back to camp, Robin?" Allan asked impatiently, jumping down onto the road. The other scrambled down after him; it was far too hot to wait around for Robin to make a drama out of an ambush.

"Robin?" Friar Tuck started to smile. "Robin – _hic_ – Hood?"

"Yes," Robin replied. "So you've heard of me." He smirked.

"I have indeed," Friar Tuck replied. "And perhaps my cargo will be of interest to you after all."

He turned and walked round to the back of the wagon. Robin gave a confused shrug to the rest of the gang and they followed the Friar.

Friar Tuck grasped the curtain that covered the open end at the back of the wagon and pulled it to the side with a flourish. There, curled up on a pile of blankets, was Djaq.

Will jerked involuntarily, kicking out one foot as if he was going to take a step forward, before freezing and staring down at Djaq as if she were a mirage.

"Wake up lass," Friar Tuck bellowed, giving the wagon a kick. "Found your friends for you, so I have."

Djaq gave a jolt then opened her eyes slowly, mumbling something unintelligible as she propped herself up on her elbows. Squinting in the sunlight that suddenly flooded the wagon her mouth fell open as she saw the six outlaws staring down at her, shock and happiness mingling in their faces.

Will reached out a tentative hand and rested his fingers lightly upon her foot, which was the closest part of her, as if to make sure that she was real and not an apparition. His touch seemed to jolt Djaq back to reality and she lunged forward, launching herself into Will's arms. She pressed herself fervently against him, fingers grasping at his shirt, as if trying to fuse their skin as well as their souls.

Robin looked away as John gazed at the pair fondly. Allan had an odd look on his face as he watched them, and Much mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "honey."

Will clung to her, not wanting to let her go. He ran his hands down her arms and up over her back, tangling his fingers into her hair, checking that she was real. She tilted her face up towards him, relief and happiness shining in her eyes, and Will bent down and kissed her.

Completely forgetting that he had an audience, and that they had parted on bad terms, he kissed her passionately. Djaq responded with the same desperate fervour, until the rational part of her brain resurfaced and reminded her of her task.

Finally extracting herself from Will's arms Djaq looked up Robin urgently. "I have to tell you something, Robin. Something important." Robin looked at her expectantly and she twitched her head in the direction of Friar Tuck.

"I can take a hint," the big man rumbled. "I'll be on my way."

"Thank you," Djaq said sincerely. "Thank you for helping me."

He reached out and grasped her delicate hand between his two large ones. "Just remember, if you ever marry your young Englishman, I want to perform the ceremony." He tipped her a wink and swung himself into the driving seat of his wagon whilst Will blushed as violently red as his name.

As soon as the wagon had creaked its way out of sight Robin turned to Djaq. "Tell me," he said simply.

Djaq looked up at him, biting her lower lip. Seeming to draw strength from the warm presence of Will, who had clamped her to his side with an arm as if he never wanted to let her go again, she took a deep breath. "The King is returning, Robin."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Finally, finally, after 31 chapters, Djaq is back!! That makes me happy,and hopefully will please a lot of you who have been asking for her back!!

Review - please?


	2. Kisses by the stream

**Chapter 2: Kisses by the stream**

Robin stared at Djaq, his expression unreadable. His eyes were tumultuous, flashing from disbelief to anger to hope and back again.

"We can't talk about this here," Much said finally, breaking the silence. He gave Robin a slight nudge, reminding his master that he was there for him, as Robin so often forgot. "Let's go back to the camp."

Much took Robin's arm, guiding him slowly away, Robin keeping his eyes fixed on Djaq. She stared back unwaveringly although she was disconcerted by his scrutiny, but as soon as Robin tore his gaze from her she trembled slightly, a shudder running through her body.

Will was an instantaneous comfort, tightening his arm around her, pressing her closer to his side as they followed Robin and Much. Allan, still watching the reunited lovers with a look of bemusement upon his face, only began walking when Cassie gave him an impatient shove in the small of his back. She was still eying him warily, and John completed the chain of vision as he silently watched Cassie's reaction, waiting to knock Allan out with his staff if he upset the girl.

As soon as they were all settled in the camp, Will still hovering around Djaq, Robin fixed his gaze upon Djaq again. "Are you sure?" he finally spoke. "We thought the King was coming before, and it was all a lie."

Djaq looked back at him, eyes filling with hurt. "How can you ask me that, Robin?" she asked him quietly. "Have you so easily forgotten that I am a loyal member of your gang?" Unclasping her cloak she let it fall to the ground, reaching beneath her shirt to pull out her outlaw tag.

"I'm not accusing you of lying," Robin assured her. "But are you certain? You were not tricked?"

Djaq almost choked at the injustice of his words. "I have travelled thousands of miles to tell you this! I spent weeks and weeks on a ship, fending off men who were intrigued by a Saracen woman travelling alone, terrified to speak to anyone in case they discovered my secret! And you ask me if I am certain!"

Will, who had finally seated himself beside Djaq, shuffled forwards as if to place himself protectively between Djaq and Robin. His eyes were cold as he glared at his leader. "Robin, can't you see she is telling the truth? How can you doubt her?"

"I promise you, Robin," Djaq said earnestly. "I spoke to the King, he told me himself of his plans! He is to land at Portsmouth and requests as escort from Robin Hood and his men; his most loyal subjects in England."

Robin felt a jolt of pride at Djaq's words, along with happiness that the King acknowledged their service. "I'm sorry, Djaq," he said as his paranoia ebbed away. "I should never have doubted you."

Djaq nodded. "I understand."

"Will you tell us about your journey?" Much asked, eager to direct the conversation away from Robin's doubts.

Djaq nodded, though her eyes dimmed slightly. "You have already heard most of it," she replied. "I was summoned to visit the King in much the same manner of secrecy as Will and I were. He told me he planned to return, but did not want to risk anyone else, especially the Black Knights, finding out. So he asked me to tell you, Robin, and for all of us to ride to Portsmouth and protect him incase the information does reach the wrong ears."

"Why is he returning? Is the war won?" Much asked hopefully.

"I believe so," Djaq replied. "It has been said that settlement with Saladin is close at hand. Also, the King has realised that he will lose his own country as well as perhaps his Holy Land, if he remains abroad."

"So he has finally noticed that England is rotting in his absence!" Cassie threw her hands up, mocking a celebration. "Finally. And don't look at me like that, Robin, you know how I feel. We've had this argument before."

"What happened next?" John interjected, offering his steady support to Djaq, who he could see was weary and anxious.

She smiled at him gratefully. "I was granted passage on the next ship to England. It was an arduous journey; the ocean was far rougher than I have experienced before. I was terrified that there would be spies upon the ship, that one wrong word could put all of you and the King in danger, so I kept myself apart from the rest as much as possible."

"Good," Will muttered, disconcerted by her earlier comment about having to fend off the attentions of men. John shot him a look and he fell silent.

"We eventually arrived in Portsmouth, and I bought a horse on which to ride north, but it fell lame just two days ride from Sherwood. I was far from the last village, and had no idea how close the next one was. Luckily for me, the Friar happened along; he was travelling to Nottingham, and offered to take me with him." She smiled fondly. "He would not take a penny from me, though I offered him gold for his troubles."

"What did you tell him?" Robin asked. "He knew you were with Robin Hood."

"No, he didn't. I told him a tale about meeting Will in the Holy Land, and as he is part of the gang I was looking for Robin Hood."

"You lied?" Allan smiled proudly. "That's my girl."

Djaq laughed. "He knows nothing of my past; my time in England, or my connections to the King. He thinks I was a servant girl who fell in love with an Englishman. I believe he was quite taken by the romance of a young woman travelling thousands of miles to be with a man she loves!" She averted her gaze from the men, staring into the fire. "That much, at least, is true." With those words she stood abruptly. "I think I will go and wash."

She snatched up her cloak and disappeared from the camp. A heartbeat later Will stood, fumbled under his bunk until he pulled out a clean shirt, and followed her.

He followed her to the stream, watching as she knelt by the trickling brook and emerged her head in the water. She gasped as she pulled her head out; the days were warm, but the stream was still icy cold. As she began to splash her face and dab at her neck, washing away the grime of many endless days upon a filthy ship and riding on a dirt track, Will approached her quietly.

"I know you are there," she called out, almost teasingly.

Will smiled as she turned round, rendered momentarily speechless by the dancing light in her eyes. He couldn't quite believe that she had returned safe and well to him. By way of explanation for him following her, he wordlessly proffered the clean shirt. Djaq took it with grateful fingers and he turned his back politely, waiting for her to wash herself and change into the shirt.

His shoulders tensed as he felt fingertips dance up his back, followed by featherlight kisses upon his neck. Biting back a moan he turned his head slightly. "You are supposed to be bathing," he managed to utter, his voice low as he tried to control himself.

"Wash me," Djaq replied simply. Will turned around quickly and saw her quirking an eyebrow at him, as if she had offered him a challenge.

As he gaped rather ungainly at her she backed away, retreating to the stream. She knelt down upon the bank, waiting.

Will followed hesitantly, kneeling behind her. He gulped as she grasped the hem of her shirt and lifted it, pulling it over her head and casting it to the ground. He rested one hand upon her bare skin, his fingers splaying out, marvelling at the contrast between his pale skin and her darker tone. Scooping up a handful of water with his free hand he let it trickle onto the top of her spine, watching the droplets race over the smooth skin.

He tipped more water onto her, massaging it into her skin to cleanse away the grime. As Djaq tipped her head back in pleasure he leant forwards and pressed gentle lips into the soft curve where neck became shoulder, eliciting a feral moan from her throat.

Will suddenly stopped his ministrations, rocking back awkwardly onto his heels. "I thought you might hate me," he blurted, unable to withhold his fears any longer.

Djaq reached out and grasped her cloak, wrapping it around herself before turning to Will with a slight frown marring her face. "Why would I hate you?" she asked him, true confusion in her question.

"Because I told you to stay behind!" Will rose to his feet, twisting his hands in anguish as he finally managed to alleviate the worry that had plagued him since he had boarded the ship home to England. "I wouldn't let you go to England, I made you angry, and then I left you."

Djaq was trying hard not to laugh, but couldn't keep the amusement from her face. "Will, have you really spent these last months worrying about that?"

He nodded fervently. "I felt awful," he whispered.

"Will, listen to me. I was angry for a short while, but only because I was so upset by our parting. It was easier to be angry than to cry and wail and condemn the whole of England for separating me from my love!" She reached out and rested a hand against his cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb. "I do not hate you – I love you, with all my heart. And I have never been happier than now, being reunited with you."

Will stared down at her, hardly daring to believe that it was all so simple. He had worked himself into a panic for nothing; he loved her, and she loved him, and that love was forever.

Grasping her shoulders he dragged her roughly into a hug, pressing her against his chest, tangling his legs and his fingers and his heart with hers. "I missed you," he mumbled into her hair.

"I missed you too," she whispered urgently into his chest, fingers grasping desperately at his back.

"We will never be parted again," Will continued. "After all this is over, we will go home, we will be married, and I will never leave you again."

Djaq pulled away from his embrace slightly, tilting her head to look up at him. "Home?" she repeated.

"Acre," Will replied.

Djaq shook her head. "No, Will. We are already home."

He squinted down at her. "We are?"

She nodded, letting out another delighted laugh. "Sherwood!" she said, spreading her arms out and spinning in a circle. "Nottinghamshire! This miserable, rain-soaked land is home, Will. I do not belong in Acre anymore, and neither do you." She returned to his arms and planted a kiss upon his cheek. "Besides, I love you. And home is where you are, Will Scarlett."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Um, yeah. My imagination ran away with me slightly there! The Will/Djaq convo was initially going to be a whole heap of angst, but it kind of collapsed into a pile of marshmallowy fluff. As did I, thinking of Will...


	3. At the port

**Chapter 3: At the port**

Allan A Dale had always prided himself on knowing how to please a woman. In any situation, with any age of woman, whether they be unattached or married, he could always win them over to his way of thinking. Whether it was as a hungry young boy with skinned knees persuading a kindly woman to part with a heel of bread for him, or as a handsome young man luring a giggling tavern girl to his bed, he was well equipped with sparkling eyes, a charming smile and a gilded tongue.

There were only four women he had ever come across who could resist his appeal. His mother had been quite willing to deal him a swift slap across the rear if he pushed his luck, Marian was completely immune to his charms, and Djaq and Cassie had both managed to counter his attentions with witty comebacks and clever putdowns.

And yet, his mother had often fallen for his wide-eyed innocence, and even Marian had relaxed her haughty attitude towards him after he saved her from the noose. Djaq had, on occasion, let her guard down and even blushed at his playful flirting, and Cassie had eventually succumbed.

But now – now she was completely, irrevocably ignoring him, and he had no idea what he had done wrong.

They were two days ride from Nottingham, camping in the shrub a hundred yards from the road that led south. The gang, answering the King's request, were travelling to Portsmouth in order to provide him with protection when his ship landed. Allan was not particularly enamoured with the idea of laying his life on the line to protect a King who had left him to die, but he knew it was his duty. And he had been so preoccupied with Cassie's odd behaviour that he hadn't had much chance to contemplate the sense of impending doom he felt every time he thought of their mission.

Ever since they had left Nottingham – ever since Djaq returned, really – Cassie had been behaving strangely. When she wasn't ignoring him she responded to his questions with abrupt one-word answers, turned away every time he looked at her, and wouldn't let him get within touching distance of her, let alone allow him to kiss her.

At first he had muttered the typically male response of "Women!" and waited for her to snap out of it, but after several days of the cold shoulder he was thoroughly bemused and more than a little annoyed.

The fire was burning low, the outlaws gathered around it and preparing to sleep. John was already flat on his back and snoring, Robin and Much were talking quietly, and Will and Djaq were cuddled together beneath a blanket. Cassie was sitting with her back against a tree trunk, staring into the distance, absentmindedly snapping small twigs off a larger branch.

Allan walked over and plonked himself down next to her, deciding that the best way to approach the situation was in his usual blunt, brash way. "Not being funny, but I thought half the point of being in love was that you could get a snog every time you wanted one."

Cassie shot him a withering look. "You really aren't being funny."

"C'mon Cass, what's going on? Have I upset you?"

"Oh well done!" She applauded sarcastically.

"Right, so you're upset. But seriously Cass, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done, so you're gonna have to enlighten me."

Cassie cast a look towards where Will and Djaq were whispering contentedly in the darkness and stood up. "I don't want to talk about this here."

Allan stood up as well and grabbed her wrist. "Well, you're going to have to talk about it. Come on." He gave her arm a yank, dragging her after him into the trees.

"Get off me!" she hissed, wrenching her arm from his grip and rubbing at the sore skin on her wrist.

"Let me kiss it better," he replied with a wink, reaching out for her again, but she retreated from him and he sighed in irritation. "Just tell me what I've done and maybe I can make it right."

"You should know what you've done!" she snapped at him.

He shrugged helplessly at her. "If I knew I wouldn't be asking, would I! All I know is, ever since Djaq came back you've been ignoring me."

Cassie snorted in disbelief. "Ever since Djaq came back you've pretended I don't exist!"

"Ohhh!" A slow smirk spread over Allan's face as he realised the problem. "You're jealous!"

"I am not jealous."

"Yes you are!"

"Only because you give me reason to be! I know you used to like her, and when you saw her in that cart – your face, Allan, I can't explain it. You looked so happy – "

"That's because my mate was back! I was grinning like an idiot when Will came home, you never asked me if I fancied him did you!"

"Don't try and get out of this with a joke," Cassie warned. "It wasn't just happiness. When you saw her kissing Will, you looked so…"

"Repulsed?" he suggested. "Right, sorry. Joking again. How did I look?"

"Hurt," she replied.

Allan scoffed. "Don't be stupid."

"Oh, so I'm stupid now am I?"

Allan let out a growl, running a desperate hand through his hair, and wondering for a split second why he had ever thought that committing to a woman was a good idea. "I didn't mean that. Listen, if I had a funny look on my face it was because I've never seen them like that before. They were always my best mates, not a couple! One minute I was working for Gisborne, the next they were in love and staying in Acre. Haven't had a chance to get used to it, that's all."

"I don't believe you." She shook her head slowly. "You looked jealous of Will, when he was holding her."

"I was not jealous! I don't love Djaq, Cass, I never did. I'm telling the truth!"

"Makes a change."

Allan usually let anything serious or hurtful wash over him, but those words stung. "I _have_ changed, that's the point. I thought you believed that."

"I do, but that doesn't mean you'll never tell a lie to please me."

"I am not lying, Cass, I swear to you. How many times do I have to tell you, I love you!" He looked at her pleadingly. "There's nothing between me and Djaq; she's with Will, and I'm happy for them."

Cassie eyed him warily, but he could tell his words had worked by the way her eyes had softened. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Her shoulders slumped slightly, her posture immediately becoming less defensive, and he knew she had forgiven him. He reached out for her and she stepped into his arms, resting her head against his chest and letting him hold her closely to him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into his shirt.

"Doesn't matter, wildcat," he murmured back, stroking her hair.

**XX**

The gang knew they were nearing the coast when they began to smell salt in the air. Djaq and Will unconsciously moved closer together, the smell reminding them both of their hard individual journeys back to England.

The road became a lot busier too, filled with travellers and merchants hurrying to and from the port. Seagulls cried out harshly as they wheeled in the air, and the sea appeared on the horizon in a misty line of blue.

If they were arriving under any other circumstances, Cassie believed that she would have been overflowing with excitement. She had never seen the sea before, and was entranced by the endless expanse of water, terns skimming over the foaming waves as they rose and curled in white-topped peaks. The port, too, was a bustling sea town, the smell of the fish market heavy in the air. Sellers cried out their wares whilst buyers strolled up and down the crooked streets, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine and the fresh salty breeze.

As it was, she and the others were arriving in order to protect the King, a monumental responsibility that sealed their lips in firm lines and turned their knuckles white as they tightly grasped their reins. Every sailor, every busty tavern wench, every leather-skinned fisherman became a potential enemy as the outlaws rode through the town, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. They had intended to leave the horses on the outskirts of the town as they would have been far less visible on foot, but had decided the need to have a means of escape nearby outweighed the desire for subtlety.

"There it is!" Djaq whispered as they neared the centre of the town, pointing towards an inn across a square. Its wooden sign hung crookedly and swayed in the breeze, depicting an image of a crown encrusted with jewels.

"The King's Crown Inn," Allan muttered to Will. "Ironic."

The King was due to arrive the following day, and the Crown was where Djaq had been instructed to wait. A messenger would meet them there at sundown and take them to where the King and his guard were waiting. And so the gang paid the rate for a set of rooms for the night, as well as stabling for the horses. As a pair of stable boys led their mounts away the hungry, thirsty and weary gang collapsed in a dark corner of the inn and ordered a round of meat pies.

Much was practically salivating at the prospect of a freshly cooked meat pie, whilst Allan eagerly requested a tankard of ale.

"No more," Robin cautioned, shooting Allan a warning look. "There is to be no getting drunk, no gambling, and no drawing attention to ourselves. We have to be an inconspicuous as this table." He rapped upon the rickety wood with his knuckles to emphasise his point.

"Tell Much to stop drooling over a piece of pie then," Allan replied petulantly. "I'd be more subtle than him even if I'd had ten pints."

Will snorted. "You? Subtle? Are you forgetting that time you came home from the tavern, tripped over one of Robin's boots, and fell in the fire?"

Cassie gaped at him. "You fell in the fire?"

Allan smiled sheepishly and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the dull scar of a burn on the underside of his arm, just below the elbow. "Was only the embers," he offered, as if that would make it less ridiculous.

**XX**

Allan awoke slowly, stretching out his arms and legs, wriggling his shoulders luxuriously as he relished sleeping in a proper bed rather than a wooden bunk. He blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the dim light seeping through the ragged curtain, and reached out for Cassie who had been sleeping beside him.

His fingers brushed against air and he sat up with a jolt, his eyes flying open. John was snoring on the narrow bed on the far side of the room, but Cassie was gone.

Scrambling out of bed Allan pulled his tunic on over his shirt, shoved his feet into his boots, and flung his cloak over his shoulders. As he fastened the buckle he debated arming himself, but decided that walking around with a huge sword swinging from his hip would probably break Robin's rule about being inconspicuous. As a compromise he fastened his dagger holster onto his belt and pulled his shirt over the top to hide it, and tucked a second dagger into his boot.

As he left the inn he shivered in the chill morning air and pulled his cloak more tightly around him. It was only just past daybreak and the sea air was cold, a light mist hanging over the water.

Allan walked towards the docks, enjoying being able to stride through the streets without skulking in the shadows. Even at the early hour the town was already coming alive, as fishermen hauled in their first catches of the day and stall holders began to set up in the fish market. He could see Cassie standing at the end of the nearest dock, her hair whipping in the wind, salty spray blowing into her face.

Walking up behind her, the sound of his footsteps lost in the howling of the wind, he slipped his arms around her waist and rested his chin upon her shoulder. She jumped at first, and then settled back into his embrace, still staring out at the water.

"I wish Sherwood was near the sea," she called back over her shoulder. "It's beautiful."

"It's…salty," Allan replied, wrinkling his nose as he licked the salty droplets from his lips.

Cassie laughed. "I could stand here all day."

"Well, we have a whole day to waste. I could think of more interesting ways to spend it, but whatever tickles your fancy." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively and she nudged her elbow back, driving it into his stomach.

"I suppose I can come back later." She stepped back and took Allan's hand. "Come on, Much said something about kippers for breakfast."

"Not being funny, but kippers weren't quite what I had in mind."

"Well it's all you're getting!" she returned, and tugged him away.

**XX**

Sunset arrived and with it a band of very nervous outlaws. Robin, Djaq and Will were sitting in the bar of the inn, pretending to eat but barely picking at their food. John, Allan and Cassie were guarding the entrances and exits to the inn and doing their best to blend in with the décor, whilst Much waited in the stable with the horses in case they needed a speedy escape.

"What's the messenger's name?" Robin asked for the fifth time.

Djaq sighed impatiently but replied with "Peter."

"And he definitely said he would meet us here?"

"Yes Robin!" In her annoyance her voice came out louder than she expected and she cast a furtive look around, in case unfriendly ears were listening. "Sorry."

Robin grew tenser and tenser as time ticked on with no sign of Peter. They sat and waited until the bar closed for business, and the owner of the inn asked them to leave.

"What do we do now?" Much hissed nervously as the outlaws all assembled in the stables.

Cassie shrugged helplessly. "Maybe they've been captured."

"No," Robin said firmly. "We will wait here, the ship must be delayed. Perhaps they ran into bad weather."

There was no room for argument as Robin strode out of the stable, hastening to find the innkeeper before their rooms were sold for the night. He managed to secure board for the next week, deciding that it would be best to have it just in case.

It was lucky that he did; the next day arrived, and still no sign of Peter. On the second day Will heard rumours on the docks of a ship that had wrecked off the coast of Corfu, but Robin refused to even entertain the idea that perhaps the King had been on board.

Eventually, on the sixth day, as Djaq sat in the inn with her chin propped tiredly on her hand, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. She blinked, for a moment thinking that she was hallucinating; but the face was still there.

"Peter!" she hissed, slamming her hand down upon the table. Robin and Will jerked in their seats, turning to stare at the newcomer.

The man was small, his clothes travel worn and his face tired and drawn beneath a shock of sandy blonde hair. His eyes widened as he recognised Djaq, then skimmed the room for signs of danger as he walked casually towards the outlaws' table and sat down upon a stool.

His relaxed stride belied the look of panic in his eyes as he met Djaq's urgent gaze. "Aphrodite is my favourite goddess," he said conversationally.

"I prefer Hestia," Djaq returned.

All pretence ebbed away as Peter slumped forwards on the table. "We have failed," he whispered, his voice laden with guilt. "The King has been kidnapped."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Right, I am going to post a warning here and now: from this point on, this fic will veer from the path of historical accuracy. Sometimes quite a lot.

Not that the show cares about historical accuracy...

But anyway.

I did some wikipedia research and it turns out King Richard was actually shipwrecked off the coast of Corfu and consequently kidnapped. I will explain more in the next chapter, or you can check it out if you're interested. This actually happened in 1192 and he was kept for almost 2 years, so already the canon timeline is waaaay out of synch with reality! Which suits me fine. And for the sake of story telling my timeline is going to be much shortened and twisted!!

But hopefully entertaining as a result.


	4. Peter's tale

**Chapter 4: Peter's Tale**

Allan sneezed loudly as a piece of hay tickled him beneath the nose, smiling sheepishly as Robin threw him an angry look. He pulled the errant strand of hay free and secured it between his lips, chewing on the end as he leant back against the stack of hay bales once more.

"Kidnap?" Much stared from Robin to Peter and then back again, his eyes comically wide in disbelief. "But – but – it's the King! The King cannot be kidnapped!"

"Well, he has." Robin sank down onto a spare bale, running a desperate hand through his dusty tangles of hair, exhausted by the enormity of the news. He looked up at Peter, who was standing quietly in the corner, an expression of sadness and failure cast across his tired features. "John, guard the door to the stables. We should not be disturbed in here, but to be on the safe side…"

John nodded his understanding and slipped quietly from the stable, closing the door securely behind him. When the stable was silent, but for the nervous breathing of a band of worried outlaws, Robin gestured to Peter to share his tale.

"The King's ship sailed forth from the Holy Land several months ago," Peter began. "But there was a storm, and we were forced to seek refuge at the nearest port. We docked at Corfu – it was dangerous, but we had no choice. Corfu is under the rule of – "

"The Byzantine Empire," Robin supplied, nodding his understanding.

"The Byzan – what?" Allan asked. "Not being funny, but we're not as informed on world affairs as you."

"The Byzantine Empire," Robin repeated impatiently. "The Emperor hates Richard because he annexed Cyprus before the Third Crusade. Cyprus used to be part of his Empire."

"So we could not allow anyone to know that the King was in Byzantine lands," Peter continued. "He and four attendants, including myself, disguised ourselves as Knights Templar and waited for the weather to clear before setting sail again. But the weather was still unsettled and the ship wrecked near Aquileia. We lost one man and many of our supplies, and were far from any port; we were forced to take a land route through Europe."

Robin shook his head. "Too slow, and too dangerous."

"We had no choice," Peter defended their decision. "The King knew that Henry of Saxony would offer us protection so we travelled towards his territory, but we were eventually captured by Leopold of Austria. I say 'we' – I managed to escape, and journeyed onwards to seek help from Henry."

"And did you get it?" Much asked nervously.

Peter shook his head. "He found out that King Richard had been handed over to the Holy Roman Emperor, who imprisoned him in Trifels Castle and demanded a ransom."

"Demanded it from who?" Robin asked.

"The man that rules England in the King's absence," Peter replied, almost apologetically.

"Prince John," Much supplied quietly, closing his eyes as Robin reacted the way he expected, slamming his fist into a wooden post in his rage.

"The fool!" he spat out angrily. "Prince John will not pay a ransom; he does not want Richard back!"

"And if the ransom is not paid…" Djaq said slowly.

"The King remains imprisoned, and England will rot in Prince John's charge," Will finished quietly. "The Sheriff will still control Nottinghamshire, and the people will suffer. There will be no hope."

"Because of your messages, Robin, I knew that Prince John would not pay the ransom." Peter ran a tired hand through his hair, unable to keep the desperation out of his eyes. "Henry would not pay it, so I decided to seek your help."

"How much?" Robin asked tersely. "How much is the ransom?"

Peter swallowed. "Sixty five thousand pounds of silver," he replied with a wince. There was a split second of silence before the outlaws erupted into a series of incredulous scoffs and short, humourless laughs.

Allan stared at him. "We live in the forest eating squirrel, and you think we have sixty five thousand pounds?"

"We do _not_ eat squirrel," Much snapped defensively. "But we do not have sixty five thousand pounds."

"I did not know where else to go!" Peter finally allowed his desperation to enter his voice, looking pleadingly at Robin.

"We have to find the money," Robin agreed. "Somehow."

Five faces gaped back at him disbelievingly.

"We can barely keep the peasants of Nottinghamshire alive with the money we take," Cassie replied. "Sixty five thousandspounds is more than twice the annual income of the Crown!"

"We have to find it!" Robin barked at her angrily. "We have no choice."

"You are mental." Allan shook his head at his leader. "I always suspected it, but it's true! You. Are. _Mental_."

"I am determined!" Robin rounded on Allan, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Determined to save the King, determined to save England. Marian _died_ to save the King – what would she say if I left him to rot in a prison cell?"

It was only the mention of Marian's name that prevented Allan from retorting. Robin never mentioned her name, and it was the emotion behind that single word that made the outlaws fall into silence and wait for their leader's command.

There was a moment of uneasy silence before Robin straightened up, forcing the memory of Marian into the compartment of his brain where he tried to keep it hidden. He mustered a ghost of a smile, a translucent attempt at his usual smirk. "Besides, I have a plan."

"Which is…"

"Eleanor," Robin replied. "The Queen Mother."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Um okay, I am a terrible little fanfiction author. I have gone from updating almost daily to abandoning this for a couple of weeks! In my defense its been a bit crazy - working fulltime, got my degree results (ahh!), loads of birthday parties/meals/shindigs to go to, plus it was my own 21st birthday party on Saturday! Had friends I havent seen for months staying Fri-Sun which was AWESOME.

So now I am trying to get back in the FF swing, which includes writing, reading and reviewing! If I haven't reviewed new chapters of your stories that I normally review, I am SO sorry, I need to catch up when I get a break! Which is looking like being August...the whole of July is booked up big time.

Oh, and its my actual birthday tomorrow, so if anyone wants to write me some Will/Djaq fluff I will be eternally grateful ;-) as I am so behind with my reading I am starved of it!!


	5. Girl talk

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry! I have been AWOL from ff for a couple of months for various reasons - work, family, etc. But I am trying to get back on track so here at last is another chapter!!

* * *

**Chapter 5: Girl talk**

Cassie had spent many of her evenings in the outlaw camp listening to the memories of the others, trying to decipher recollections of past events and misdemeanours through the snorts of laughter that regularly accompanied them. Many of the tales had focussed upon Robin's arrogance or Much's perceived stupidity, but the majority had centred around the various adventures of Will, Allan and Djaq.

She had been looking forward to seeing the threesome reunited and witnessing their chemistry; the balance struck between Allan's pranks, Will's sensibility, and Djaq's wit and intelligence. But now she was sitting in that same camp with the three people she had learned so much about, and the atmosphere could not have been more awkward.

It was only she, Allan, Will and Djaq that had returned to their camp deep in the heart of Sherwood. Robin had set forth on another epic voyage, sailing across the sea once again in order to seek Eleanor of Aquitane and request the ransom demanded for her oldest son. Much had, of course, accompanied his beloved master on the journey, and Robin had taken John too – the tall man was not particularly inconspicuous, but would provide extra protection. Cassie secretly believed there was another reason too – no-one would confirm it, but she had heard rumours that Little John had won favour with the Queen Mother on their previous encounter.

The entangled relationships of the four people living in close confines in the camp had resulted in tension, with conversations short and laughter strained. Cassie was still not convinced of Allan's feelings towards Djaq – she often told herself that she was being ridiculous and reading too much into a simple glance or smile, but sometimes she was sure she saw something in his eyes when he looked at the Saracen woman.

She also sensed a certain amount of tension between Will and Allan. The carpenter had never quite had the chance to come to terms with Allan being a friend and comrade once more – nor had he talked properly to the trickster about his new relationship with Djaq, the woman that Allan had once proclaimed to like.

"D'you want more stew?" Allan asked as he poked at the dubious brown concoction that was busy congealing in the base of the cast iron pot dangling over the fire.

Cassie shook her head, trying not to wrinkle her nose in disgust and nudging her bowl, which was still half full, behind her stool. The outlaws had joked and jibed and downright complained about endless nights of Much's stews and soups, but now they were suffering without his cooking skills Cassie felt guilty for ever laughing at the meals he had provided.

She and Djaq had cooked for the first few days but the gendered division of chores had not lasted long. Djaq's infamously sharp tongue had evidently not softened during her time in her homeland, and she had let Allan and Will know in no uncertain terms that the girls would not be doing all the cooking.

Will had offered to cook again but had been banned from the kitchen – his one attempt at making a meal since their return from Portsmouth had almost resulted in the poisoning of his friends, as he tried to add toxic mushrooms to his stew.

Only Allan was left, and he was on his second day as the nominated head chef. The first day's meals hadn't been particularly appetising, but that evenings offering had been the worst yet. Somehow, though, he was still proud of his achievement.

Loathe tohurt his feelings Cassie picked up her bowl, carefully angling it towards herself so Allan could not see that she had left a large quantity of burnt stew.

"I'm going to clean the plates," she announced. Will and Djaq relieved themselves of their bowls with indecent haste, looking gratefully at Cassie as she tried not to smile at the copious leftovers.

"I'm having seconds," Allan told her, scraping his bowl clean and licking the remnants of stew from his spoon.

Cassie had opened the camp's hidden door and was halfway into the ravine when she heard a quiet, accented voice behind her.

"I'll come," Djaq offered.

Instantly feeling awkward Cassie opened her mouth to politely decline the offer, but detected a hint of nervousness in Djaq's tone and closed it again. Realising that Djaq probably felt as weird about the whole situation as she did she waited until Djaq had fallen into step beside her and then set off in the direction of the stream.

A strained silence accompanied them all the way to the stream. As Cassie knelt on the bank and began to scrape out the remains of the stew she grinned up at Djaq. "What did you think of Allan's stew?" she asked conversationally.

Djaq pulled a face. "I believe that what he served us was horse manure cunningly disguised as rabbit stew," she replied matter-of-factly. "You might need to bury the leftovers, they'll attract all the rats in Nottinghamshire."

Chuckling, Cassie submerged the first of the bowls in the stream, rinsing it clean. Djaq knelt next to her, scrubbing at her own bowl. For a few moments the only sounds were the babbling of the stream, the scraping of wooden bowls, and the soft hooting of an owl in a nearby oak tree.

"You don't like me, do you?" Djaq asked abruptly, her voice ringing out in the quiet forest.

Cassie looked at her, startled. "Of course I like you," she replied. "What is there not to like?"

Djaq looked down at the ground, her discomfort etched on her face. "Well, I know that you know how Allan feels – _felt_ – about me. But that's crazy! I mean…" She trailed off with a sigh and rubbed her temples absentmindedly. Cassie had to suppress a smile, recognising the uncomfortable trait as one of Will's. "I am sorry, I'm not very good at these kind of talks."

"I know what you mean – I think we have both spent far too much time with those men!"

"Who never express their emotions," Djaq agreed.

"And never want to talk about their feelings," Cassie added.

"And never wash!" Djaq finished emphatically. "I managed to introduce Will to bathing in Acre, but I imagine he will soon slip back into his old habits of a monthly dip in the stream."

Cassie sighed wistfully. "I think I would willingly give an arm to have a warm bath."

"Do not say that near the Sheriff," Djaq warned teasingly. "He would quite happily relieve you of an arm or two."

Laughing, Cassie wiped her hands dry on her breeches and stood up. "I would be even more useless as a member of this gang if I only had one arm."

"You're a very important member of this gang, from what I've been told," Djaq replied seriously. "Allan and Will both speak very highly of you."

"Then they have good taste," Cassie replied with a wink.

"Yes, they do," Djaq replied. "Cassie, Allan took a passing fancy to me many months ago and it meant nothing – it _came_ to nothing. I love Will, and it's always been Will. Never Allan."

"I believe he felt more strongly for you than you believe," Cassie replied quietly.

Djaq shrugged helplessly. "Perhaps. I never broached the topic with him as there was no need! I wanted Will, I loved Will, even before I realised it myself. You have nothing to worry about; I am no threat."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Cassie replied. "It's Allan!"

"We all have trouble trusting Allan," Djaq replied. "But I promise you, the way he behaves around you – he never acted like that with me. He does little things for you that he's never done for anyone else, and the way he looks at you…well, I never thought I would see the day that Allan A'Dale looked at a woman with love."

"He looks at me the way he looks at a tankard of ale," Cassie laughed. "So I suppose I should be assured that I'm held in such high esteem."

With a grin Djaq reached out and rested a hand lightly on Cassie's arm. "The atmosphere in camp is strange," she said. "That is to be expected. But it is like we said – we are the only women in a group of men. I think we should be friends."

Cassie stared at her for a long moment before smiling. "I think so too."

**XX**

As the camp door swung closed, hiding Djaq and Cassie's retreating backs from view, Allan expelled a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. "That could be awkward," he commented, gesturing in their direction as he reached for the stew pot and ladled another serving into his bowl.

Will nodded. "Like this," he added dryly, indicating himself and Allan.

Allan looked up at him, a heaped spoonful halfway to his lips. "What d'you mean?" he asked, shoving the food into his mouth.

"Even you aren't that dense," Will replied, a smile tugging at his lips as Allan's eyebrows shot upwards. "We haven't really had a chance to talk properly since – you know, since you decided to change sides. Again."

"And since you and Djaq started to…" Allan quirked one eyebrow upwards playfully. Will shook his head at the implication, but his cheekbones became tinged with faint pink. Deciding not to taunt his friend into a full-blown blush Allan took another mouthful of stew. "There's nothin' really to say," he said around a chunk of rabbit. "I'm back with the gang for good, an' I'm not going to do anything to mess it up again. I can swear my allegiance as much as you want but words are just words; I've got to prove to you that I've changed."

Will stared at his friend in amazement, disconcerted by the mature sense flowing from his tongue. "Like you proved to Cassie?" he asked.

Allan nodded. "I love her, an' that's why you don't have to worry about me and Djaq. You an' her are my best mates and I can't even tell you how happy I am that you're together. If you make each other happy, that's enough for me." He cleared his throat abruptly. "Besides, I'm just relieved that you're gonna stop making sickening doe-eyes at her across the fire now."

Will scooped a handful of stray twigs and grit from the floor by the fire and tossed them at Allan. The fire hissed as the small missiles scattered into the flames and Allan smirked at his friend.

"You always did throw like a girl." The smile faded from his face and he focussed serious eyes upon Will. "Are we right?" he asked.

Will nodded. "Brothers," he replied simply, steepling his fingers beneath his chin and eying Allan intently in the dim light. "Always."


	6. A familiar face

**Chapter 6: A familiar face**

Djaq reached out her arms, stretching luxuriously as she tilted her face upwards to meet the rays of warm sunlight that filtered through the leafy canopy of the forest. The sun was high in the sky and the air warm, and she and Will were enjoying a few rare hours of relaxation.

At least, she was relaxing. A pestle and mortar, along with a few bunches of dried herbs and a set of clay pots, rested in the moss at her feet, but shortly after sitting down in the sunny glade above the camp she had abandoned all pretence at work and leant back against a convenient rock to bathe in the sun.

Will, however, was still busy, sitting on the dusty floor with his knees drawn up to his chest, resting his arms upon them as he whittled away at a chunk of wood. His shoulders were hunched, his nose mere inches from the wood as his eyes stared intently at the carvings he was making with a sharp knife. A few days worth of growth stubbled his jaw and Djaq smiled slightly to herself as she recalled the way it had grazed against her own skin during a rather passionate kiss earlier that day.

"What are you making?" she asked, eager to engage him in conversation with the faint hope that it would draw his into further displays of affection. He didn't respond and she cocked an eyebrow at his bent head. "Will?" She spoke a little louder.

"Mmm?" His head jerked up and his eyes flicked nervously towards her. It was clear that he had not heard a word, but did not wish to appear as if he'd been ignoring her. "Yes, I would love something to eat, thanks."

Djaq began to chuckle, marvelling at the speed at which his face flushed as scarlet as his name. "That is not what I asked."

"Oh. Sorry." He looked at her with those adorable eyes, akin to those she had often seen on stray puppies wandering the streets of Acre, and she knew that she would never manage to summon an ounce of anger towards him when he looked at her like that.

"I asked what you are making," she repeated.

"A toy," he replied, holding up the object for her to see. "When we were in Nettlestone this morning, Henry told me his daughter's birthday is tomorrow. They cannot afford many gifts, so…" He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly.

Knowing that there was little point in commenting upon his kindness and generosity, as he would only shrug the compliments away, Djaq tilted her head backwards again. "Cassie and Allan are late back from Clun," she mentioned, noting the lateness of the afternoon by the position of the sun. "I wonder what's keeping them," she added, turning a wicked smile towards Will.

The carpenter snorted. "I don't like to think," he replied. "Either they have got themselves into some mischief that we are going to have to rescue them from, or they're…" He trailed off again, not knowing quite how to finish his sentence. Blushing furiously again, the red flush reaching the tips of his ears, he quickly returned his attentions to the carving in his hands.

**XX**

In reality, the pair had not committed any arrestable offences, nor were they reacquainting themselves behind a tree somewhere in the forest. Instead Cassie had been trapped into a lengthy conversation with Gloria, the self-appointed matron of the village.

The talkative woman had lost her husband just a year previously, and busied herself instead with all the happenings of Clun. Sharp-witted and twice as sharp-tongued she kept watch from the rocking chair at her window, always ready to summon an errant child or offer advice even when it wasn't wanted. She willingly stuck her nose into everyone else's business, but was kind-hearted enough to be excused for her interfering ways.

Her watchful eye made her a great source of knowledge – or, as Cassie assessed from the incessant flow of chatter, a great gossip. Pinioned into her chair by the force of the torrent of information flowing from Gloria's lips Cassie could do nothing but listen helplessly and sip at the cup of weak elderflower juice that had been pressed into her hand.

Allan's smirking face appeared in the window behind Gloria's head. He used his hand to mime a mouth that would not stop talking, prompting Cassie to glare at him every time Gloria glanced in a different direction.

As soon as Gloria paused for breath Cassie stood up, the legs of her chair scraping upon the floor as she hastily shoved it backwards.

"Yes, Gloria, I do agree that Mary's absences do seem curious. However, I am sure there is some reasonable explanation. Now, I must be going I'm afraid, we have more deliveries to make." She spoke rapidly, backing towards the door as she made her excuses, so keen to escape that she lied about having something else to do.

As soon as Gloria had said goodbye Cassie ducked out of the house and hurried around the corner, finding Allan slumped in the shade with a small girl climbing onto his shoulders.

All words of annoyance died on her lips as she smiled at the sight before her. "Should I be worried?" she joked as she approached.

Allan looked up and smiled lazily. "Not for a few years, Cass. But I'm afraid I've promised Tilly that I will marry her when she grows up."

The little girl nodded. "He swore," she told Cassie solemnly.

"But for now, Til, I'm afraid I have to look after for this old thing." He stood up with Tilly in his arms and span her round until she squealed with delight, then set her down on the floor. With a gallant bow to his new admirer Allan offered an arm to Cassie and led her away.

"'Old thing'?" she asked as they walked, pulling her arm free.

"I meant beautiful thing," he replied smoothly.

Cassie snorted. "I want to argue with you, but it is far too hot."

"I actually had an idea for something we could do if the sun ever came out." Allan was suddenly uncharacteristically awkward, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and hunching his shoulders.

Stopping dead, Cassie turned to look at the unusually nervous man beside her. "Mr A'Dale, are you trying to woo me?" she asked in an affectedly girlish tone.

"Might be," he replied with a familiar roguish grin. "Will you let yourself be wooed?"

"I think I will," she replied, after pretending to consider the offer. Allan offered her a hand and she grasped it, letting him pull her away in the opposite direction to the camp.

After a few minutes of chasing each other through the trees, their laughter lost amongst the boughs and the leaves, they emerged in a sun-drenched meadow. Grass waved in the breeze, dotted with the bright yellows and whites of summer flowers.

"D'you like it?" Allan asked.

"It's prettier than you," Cassie teased, although in reality she was amazed and a little wary of this most out of character behaviour.

Allan lunged for her but she darted out of his grasp, setting off at a run through the swaying grass. Allan caught her easily and took hold of her waist, their momentum carrying them forwards until they toppled to the ground.

Landing in a heap they were soon kissing, so involved in one another that neither noticed when a butterfly flitted from one head to the other. After a while Cassie disentangled herself from his arms and flopped onto her back, staring up at the white clouds scudding across a clear blue sky.

"Do you ever think there is another world out there?" she asked thoughtfully. "The sky is so big, surely it cannot go on forever."

"That's a bit deep for me, darlin'," he replied in a drawl. He propped himself up on one elbow and gave her a lazy smile before lowering his head and kissing her again. Any further philosophical ponderings were soon forgotten.

**XX**

The following day the four remaining outlaws visited Nettlestone to wish Henry's daughter a happy birthday and deliver Will's gift. They walked slowly back to the camp, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine as they had done the previous day.

Allan was sauntering along, a pair of rabbits he had trapped slung casually over one shoulder. They had passed a trap and checked it, to find two of the animals caught. Cassie was at his side, shaking her head at his new joke about a nun, a monk and a carrot, whilst Djaq and Will walked a little way behind them, hand in hand.

They reached the ravine that hid the camp and Cassie stepped forwards, grasping the lever hidden in the rock and pulling it down firmly. The secret door creaked open and the four outlaws jumped backwards in shock, hurriedly grasping for their weapons.

There was a man sitting inside the camp, reclining leisurely with his feet swung up and resting on a bunk. As the door opened he turned his head, a broad grin spreading across his face.

Will, Djaq and Allan all gasped as they looked into the laughing blue eyes of Luke Scarlett.

* * *

**Author's Note:** LUKE!! Oh how I love thee, hot v.2 Luke Scarlett! When I first watched Angel of Death I was adamant that there could be no subsitute for cute, gangly, clumsy v.1 Luke. And then I realised he was hot.

Thank you for the reviews, I'm so glad people havent given up on this! And I will get round to replying to them one day..


	7. War of the Scarletts

**Chapter 7: War of the Scarletts**

"Finally!" Luke swung his legs down and stood up, grinning at Will. "I'm starving."

Will strode forward, reaching out for his beloved brother. Grasping him by the shoulders he dragged him into a hug, Luke returning the embrace just as fervently, the brothers grasping fistfuls of the other's shirt as they held each other. When they separated both were a little damp around the eyes, but Allan, Cassie and Djaq all pretended not to notice.

"What are you doing here?" Will asked, sinking down onto a stool as if his shocked legs could no longer support him.

"Well, I got the message that you were back in Nottingham. And as you didn't come to visit me I thought I would come here."

"I'm sorry I didn't come to Scarborough," Will said, looking ashamed. "We have been busy here."

"So I heard. Rumour is you all went chasing off down to the coast."

"Shh!" Will shushed him hurriedly, looking round nervously as if unfriendly ears might be listening. He beckoned the others forward and they entered the camp, Allan closing the door behind them to ensure secrecy. "Yes, we did, on a _secret_ mission."

Luke shrugged casually. "Point taken. Anyway, I didn't really come to see you – I wanted to meet my new sister-in-law." Djaq and Will both blushed, clumsy words of denial falling from their lips, and Luke chuckled. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Djaq."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. Djaq raised her eyebrows at Will who reached out and swatted the back of his brother's head. "Less of that please, little brother."

Luke snorted. "Little? Look at you, still as skinny as a rake."

Will opened his mouth to retort but closed it again, reluctantly acknowledging that Luke was right. Although he was toned and fit from his life in the forest, he could have passed for a far younger, feebler man. Luke, however, could easily have been taken for the eldest brother – he was taller than Will, his body had filled out into broad shoulders and strong limbs, and his handsome face was mature yet retained vestiges of youth.

"You have certainly grown up a lot," Will conceded. "But you will always be my little brother."

"You got yourself a woman yet?" Allan asked, tossing his brace of rabbits onto the table and sinking down onto a bunk.

"No," Luke replied, but he was cursed with cheeks that flushed as easily as Will's, and the pink tinge gave him away.

"You have!" Allan crowed triumphantly.

Luke blushed an even deeper red, but tried to reclaim his previous cockiness with a show of bravado. "I suppose I have been seeing a girl, and she's _gorgeous_," he boasted. "Auntie Annie says we're courting," he continued, wrinkling his nose. "But really we're just – "

"Luke!" Will interrupted him. "It's impolite to speak of a woman that way."

Allan rolled his eyes as Cassie and Djaq looked satisfied. "You can tell me about it later," he whispered to Luke, who grinned.

**XX**

As the five relaxed around the fire later that night, their bellies filled with rabbit, Will watched Luke closely. He could tell that his brother had something he wanted to say – he was shuffling nervously on his seat, and kept opening his mouth then closing it quickly.

"Anything wrong, Luke?"

The younger Scarlett's head snapped up. He looked round at the four pairs of eyes watching him and took a deep breath. "I want to join the gang."

Will stared at him. "Impossible," he said quickly. "You are a child."

"I am eighteen!" The indignant teen retorted. "The same age you were when you disappeared into the forest."

Will mouthed silently at his brother, unable to contest his argument. "It is different," he said finally.

"How is it different?" Luke insisted. "At least I _want_ to join Robin's gang; you never had much choice!"

"Exactly!" Will replied. "It was completely different – I was running from the law, I should have been dead! You have a happy life, a _safe_ life – why do you think I would let you leave that behind, and live a life as uncertain as mine?"

"Because I want to!" Luke snapped. "I don't want to live my life in Scarborough, married to a boring woman, talking to boring people, feeding boring chickens! I want some excitement."

"Then – climb a tree!" Will replied. "Get a job, go to the tavern, having a shooting competition! You don't need to cheat death on a daily basis in order to have some excitement. I joined the gang to fight injustice, to try and make a difference and stop other innocent people from suffering. I didn't join for fun!"

"And who says I don't want to make a difference?" Luke was shouting at him now, furious that his brother would not take him seriously. "I had a noose around my neck too, Will. If I had been older I would have followed you to the forest – I wouldn't have run away to Scarborough!"

"I don't even know why we're having this argument." Will, who had been on his feet, sank down onto a stool and folded his arms across his chest. "You are not joining the gang, and that is final. My only peace of mind in this world comes from knowing you are safe – how would I feel if you were in danger all the time?"

Luke shook his head at Will incredulously. "You don't understand, do you, Will? Do you not realise how hard it is for _me_? I lost my older brother, never knowing if he was alive or dead, and then I lost my father for good! And still I sit in a cosy cottage with warm food every day, wondering if you are still alive, if you are too cold, or if you have had enough to eat!"

Will relented slightly, his tense shoulders sagging. "I know it can't be easy for you, Lukey," he said softly. "But there is no point in you trying to convince me. The answer is no."

"Fine." Scowling angrily, Luke snatched up his pack and slung it over one shoulder. "If that's the way you want it."

"Where are you going?" Will stood up quickly. "Sit down, Luke."

"Do not tell me what to do!" Luke suddenly looked like a petulant teenager, fury etched on his features. "If you will not let me join you, then I am going to Nottingham. I will get a job as a guard – maybe I can be of use within the castle."

"Luke, no!" Will moved quickly, blocking Luke's exit. "That is even more dangerous – you can't!"

"Don't tell me what to do. You cannot stop me."

"Luke, Marian worked from within the castle, feeding information to us. For a time she was protected by Gisborne's love for her, but eventually she died. She was killed, for being in league with Robin Hood!" Will stared at his brother, tugging at his hair in desperation, and his voice softened again. "Please, don't do this."

Luke shrugged, as if in apology. "You leave me no choice." Pushing past his brother, Luke strode away from the camp without looking back.

**XX**

Djaq loved Will's neck. She didn't know what it was, but sometimes she could not stop staring at it. She loved nuzzling against it, she loved kissing it… But now, walking along beside him, she could see the tension in it. Will's jaw was clenched, tensing his neck muscles, and she was certain that the muscles hidden beneath his shirt were just as tight.

Reaching out a hand she gently rubbed at the spot on his back at the base of his neck. "We will find him," she whispered, and Will smiled gratefully.

It was the following morning and the four outlaws had set out for Nottingham. Their pockets were filled with money for deliveries, but the main aim of the visit was to find Luke and talk him out of his ridiculous notions about joining the Sheriff's workforce.

After Luke's dramatic exit the night before Cassie had dared to suggest that perhaps it would be useful to have an insider in the castle again, but an appalled look from Will had soon quieted her. Allan, too, had given her a shove to shut her up – he had first-hand experience of the retribution that came from double-crossing the Sheriff.

As the four crested the bank above the road that led to Nottingham they all froze, hearing the distant clanking of armour and the jingling of horse's tack. They waited a few moments until they could discern more, then, realising that the sounds came from a large company, dropped to their fronts on top of the bank.

The procession soon came into sight, moving swiftly along the road. All the men wore the same livery, in black and a deep, rich red. Two standard bearers strode along in front, followed by four rows of horses walking three abreast. Behind them was a man dressed all in black, flanked on either side by riders with extra plumes on their hats. After them came another five rows of horses and riders, also riding three abreast.

All the men, except the man dressed all in black, were heavily armed. As the group proceeded closer, the four observing outlaws tried to stifle gasps.

The man dressed in black had a crown shining upon his head.

As the clanking of metal died away the four remained where they were, staring after the procession in shock.

"Prince John," Djaq whispered hoarsely, voicing what they had all thought.

"We need to get in the castle," Cassie said urgently. "We need to know what's happening. We need – "

She stopped abruptly and looked at Will, who sighed in defeat. "We need Luke," he admitted reluctantly.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry! This was ready on Friday, but real life got in the way of updating...


	8. Bad news

**Chapter 8: Bad news**

It was a damp and miserable night in Sherwood Forest when the bad news arrived.

The outlaws were sitting in the camp, forced into silence by their rumbling bellies and their frustration at having spent the day getting wet and cold whilst waiting to see if any wagons passed through the forest. None had been seen, a disappointment in itself, but the weather had made their moods ten times worse.

They were in such a stupor that it took them a moment to realise that the door to the camp had been opened and they reacted sluggishly, Will being the first to respond by grasping his axe.

"Oh, it's you," he said sleepily, letting his axe drop back to the ground.

"Don't sound too pleased to see me," Luke replied sarcastically, entering the camp accompanied by a gust of wind and a spattering of rain drops. "What happened to summer?" he asked, pulling off his cloak and moving closer to the fire.

"It went on holiday," Allan muttered, scratching a piece of dried mud from his trousers and flicking it into the fire.

"You could at least pretend to be happy I'm here," Luke sulked. "It was a risky business, sneaking out of the castle and coming here."

"Why did you bother?" Allan asked.

"Because I thought you might like this." Luke produced a cloth-wrapped package from the inside pocket of his cloak and tossed it to Allan. Unwrapping the parcel he found a loaf of bread and some cured ham.

"Where did you get that?" Djaq asked appreciatively as Allan let out a whoop, breaking off a piece of bread and passing the package on to Cassie.

"You didn't steal it, did you?" Will asked sternly.

Luke snorted. "As if you can talk, outlaw."

Will grinned reluctantly. "I don't really have any comeback to that do I?"

"No. And anyway, I didn't steal it." He smirked. "A kitchen maid is sweet on me – I told her I'd adopted a stray puppy and she slipped me the scraps."

Allan slapped him on the back proudly. "I've tried that one before – it works really well, doesn't it?" Cassie cleared her throat loudly and he shot her a winning smile.

"Did you find anything out?" Djaq asked.

Luke sighed, the laughter fading from his face, and sat down heavily. "I was hoping the food would soften the blow of what I have to say, but I don't think it will."

"Lukey, this is important," Will said. "Just tell us."

Sighing again, Luke looked down at the ground, unwilling to see the looks on their faces. "I managed to eavesdrop in the castle this morning – security is lax because you haven't been seen for so long. Prince John is going to announce news of the King's kidnap, and increase taxes to raise the money needed for the ransom."

"They can't do that!" Cassie stared at him in horror. "The villagers already have nothing – the Sheriff has taxed them into poverty."

Luke shrugged. "They're going to take everything, Cass. Put taxes on _everything_. The land they work, the buildings they inhabit, the tools they use - the Sheriff is even going to introduce boat tax, when we're nowhere near the coast."

As Will, Allan and Cassie let out incredulous cries Djaq stared at Luke resolutely. "But Prince John does not want to raise the ransom – he does not want the King to be freed." Her voice betrayed no emotion but her eyes flashed – she understood what it meant.

Luke nodded soberly. "The Black Knights are going to make the villagers believe that the taxes are to rescue the King. But really they are funding the kidnappers to…" he trailed off, but Will picked up his meaning.

"To kill him," he said quietly.

There was silence for a few moments, before Allan banged his fist down on the table. "So it was all for nothing!" His furious voice echoed in the confines of the camp, his raw anger making the others wince. "Going to the Holy Land, Robin losing the trust of the King, Marian _dying_ – it was all worthless! Richard is going to die anyway."

"No." Will's voice was still quiet, but firm. "We can't give up. We _won't_ give up! If the King dies, then Nottinghamshire and England will rot away. The people will have even less than they do now! We've always found a way to fix things, and we will again."

"There is nothing we can do," Cassie replied with a defeated shrug. When Will and Djaq both glared at her she held up her hands in supplication. "Hear me out. We can't stop the taxation, and we can't steal the money back with just four. Five," she added quickly, seeing Luke open his mouth to protest. "It will be too heavily guarded. We just have to wait and pray that Robin finds Eleanor, and they get to the Roman Emperor before the Black Knights do."

"It is not enough," Will insisted.

"Do you have a different plan?" Cassie asked. His silence answered her question. "But just because we can't stop the taxation doesn't mean we can't still raise hell for the Sheriff." She grinned round at the other outlaws. "We are going to have to take money and food from somewhere to look after the villagers. They will have even less than before – we _need_ money for them."

"Where will we find it?" Djaq asked. "You said it yourself, Cassie. All the money will be heavily guarded."

Allan, sitting in the corner and listening intently to the conversation, cleared his throat. "I have a suggestion," he told them. "But you ain't gonna like it." Will gestured for him to continue and, with a nervous look at Cassie, he did so. "We could gamble for the money."

"We could – what?" For once Cassie did not have an answer to him.

"Gamble for it," he repeated, trying to inject his usual confidence into his words. "Go round the taverns, find some takers, a roll of the dice here and a coin up the sleeve there… It wouldn't be much, but it'd be something."

Cassie was staring at him in disbelief. "Are you really suggesting that we cheat people who are poor out of money, to give to others who are poor?"

Allan shrugged. "If they've got money to gamble with, they aren't that poor. Anyway, we can target the guards, the ones with a wage in their pocket."

"And that makes it better?"

"Yeah, of course it does! Look, Cass, I'm good at gambling."

"That is nothing to be proud of!"

"It can be useful," he insisted.

"It is dishonourable!" Cassie snapped fiercely. "And if you can't see that, then I don't know why I'm even bothering trying to explain."

With those words she stormed angrily from the camp, disappearing into the gathered darkness, Allan staring after her.

"I think you should go after her," Luke suggested.

"I don't need advice from a whippet like you!" Allan snarled, but even as he spoke he was getting to his feet to follow.

Cassie was walking swiftly through the forest, tripping over tree roots and crashing into branches in her haste, making it easy to follow her. Quickening his pace into a jog Allan soon caught her, grasping her arm and twisting her round to face him.

"What?" She snapped, wrenching her arm from his grasp. "Get off me!"

"Calm down, wildcat." Allan took a step backwards, hoping to placate her. "Why'd you go crazy on me like that? Not being funny but I was trying to be helpful!"

Cassie snorted. "You have a short memory, don't you, Allan? Or maybe it's just that you care so little about anyone but yourself, you pay no attention to them!" She kicked at a branch that lay on the ground. "You have seem to forgotten that gambling ruined my father – it ruined his life. And mine, with it!

"Of course I remembered, Cass! I was just trying to help, honest I was."

She stared at him for a long moment. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes! I don't think it's a good way to get money, but it is a way. But if it upsets you then just forget I ever suggested it."

"No gambling?" she asked quietly.

"No gambling," Allan promised.

Cassie didn't see his fingers crossed behind his back.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I am so happy that people are reading and enjoying this trilogy. But I feel I should warn you - I am not sure when this will be finished.

On Saturday I am leaving my beloved Nottingham behind and flying halfway around the world to New Zealand! I have a work visa and am planning to work/travel for as long as I enjoy myself (or until I run out of money). Ideally I wanted to get this finished before I left but that won't happen now. There _might_ be one more chapter before Saturday, but I am so unprepared for my travels that it is unlikely!

I really want this story to be finished eventually as I know where it is heading, so once I am in NZ I will try and get it completed. It all depends on internet access/how busy I am etc, but please bear with me!

And thank you all for reading and reviewing so far!!


	9. Gambling with love

**Chapter 9: Gambling with love**

The shining silver was like a tonic to his palm. Allan grinned as he slipped the gleaming coin into the pouch at his waist, the leather already bulging with good fortune. He had missed this – had missed the challenge of working out the opposition, spotting the way their eyes slid downwards if they had a bad hand or the eager twitch of fingers if they thought their luck was in. He had missed the convincingly persuasive patter that came so easily to his lips, missed engaging his gilded tongue in pursuits other than persuading Cassie he was innocent of whatever misdemeanour she accused him of.

He had missed gambling, and he hadn't realised how much until he was reinstated upon his throne of a rickety old stool in the dingy corner of a tavern, his fingers deftly flicking and shuffling and dealing his dog-eared old cards, twiddling and sliding and lifting his three silver cups, lies and excuses gliding from his mouth as easily as coins slid into his purse.

"It just isn't your lucky night, gents," he said with an easy grin, faux sympathy lacing his voice until it was almost mocking. He flashed his defeated opponents a wink as they turned away grumbling wondering how they would explain their empty pockets to their wives.

Leaning forward, Allan rested his elbows upon the table as he shuffled his cards with ease, the feel of them as familiar as his own skin. "Any takers?" he asked, ignoring the wench who simpered at him from behind the bar.

"I'll have a go," a cold, stiff voice replied from behind him.

Allan tensed, the cards falling from his hands and fanning across the table as he closed his eyes with a silent groan. Cassie marched into his line of vision, arms crossed tightly across her body. She unfolded them to enable her to deliver a stinging slap to the back of his right hand.

As Allan yelped and yanked his hand away, cradling it against his chest, Cassie glared down at him with eyes as hard as stone. "I believe the term is 'caught red handed'?" she said in that same cold, taut voice, before turning and striding away.

Groaning again, this time audibly, Allan stood up and followed her, casting a silent plea to any god that might exist to please help him get out of this alive.

He caught her before she left the tavern, catching her arm as she became entangled in a group of drunks and twisting her round to face him.

"Cass, I can explain," he began, the familiar words spilling naturally from his lips, even though he did not have a clue how to do so.

"You cannot talk your way out of this one," she snapped. "You promise you would not gamble again, you _swore_ to me not two days ago that it was over! And now I catch you tricking innocent men out of their last coin."

"I'm trying to help!" he protested, although his insistence sounded weak, even to his own ears. He _did_ want to help, had been planning on giving every last penny of his winnings to the poor – but the motives behind his trip to the tavern had not been entirely selfless and honourable. He had _wanted_ to gamble again, wanted to feel the strength it gave him, the thrill that came from a successful con. Allan A'Dale was not good at many things, but he was good at gambling, and had wanted to feel that power again.

Cassie shook her head witheringly. "You can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, but the point is you lied to me! How can I trust you again?"

"Cass, you know you can trust me…"

"No I can't!" she shrieked, her voice suddenly shrill, all composure lost. "You're as bad as the Sheriff, you're as bad as Sloane, tricking and deceiving innocent, good people to make yourself feel like less of a pathetic, yellow-bellied traitor!"

A deathly silence followed her outburst. Forgetting all about the captive audience of intoxicated tavern patrons Allan stared at her, an unprecedented wave of hurt washing over him. Was that really how she saw him?

The silence was shattered by a shout from one of the mail-clad guards lurking unnoticed in a shadowed corner. "Outlaws!" the rough voice bellowed. "The scoundrel that betrayed Gisborne! Seize them!"

Coming to his senses first, despite the anguish that grasped his heart, Allan caught hold of Cassie and shoved her ahead of him. "Run!" he hissed in her ear, pushing her forwards until she snapped out of her furious trance and started to move.

Allan sheltered her from the reaching hands of the guards, yanking his own arm free of their grasping fingers as he and Cassie emerged into the fresh air. They pelted towards the nearest escape route, a narrow alleyway between two rows of dilapidated houses. Leaping over a water trough and dodging a discarded bucket Allan desperately tried to engage his brain and mentally study the detailed maps he had drawn in his mind whilst he had free reign of the town. The Salutation Inn…the alleyway they were running through led to the Trip, and beyond that the castle, which meant they had to take a right turn and run down towards the market place to have any hope of escape.

Allan knew they were approaching a break in the alleyway, a narrow gap between two houses. Catching hold of Cassie's arm he yanked her back towards him, steadying her as her weight landed against him, and dragged her into the gap.

"Turn right," he gasped, his heart pounding in his chest. "Use the market for cover, then run down to Crown Lane. Don't go to the butchers, you'll lead them to Will and Djaq. Once you've lost the guards double back and hide at Alyson's, I'll find you there."

She stared at him, trying to process his words with her muddled mind. "I'm coming with you!" she replied at last.

Allan clamped a hand over her mouth as the guards clattered past. "It's me they want," he told her once they had passed. "Just go!" Planting a rough kiss on her mouth he pushed her away from him, sending her stumbling out into the street on the other side of the houses.

Allan stuck his head back into the alleyway. "I'm back here!" he yelled at the retreating backs of the guards, giving them a grin and a wave as they turned around. "Catch me if you can!" With the challenge issue he ducked backwards, following Cassie. Looking to the right he caught a glimpse of her green shirt disappearing around the corner. With another silent prayer, for her escape and his own, he turned to the left and set off at a run.

Lungs burning, feet pounding along with the rhythm of his heart, he charged up a deserted lane to the castle. Throwing a two-fingered salute towards the castle gates as he passed he turned a sharp right, almost sending an old woman flying as he pushed through the washing she was pegging out to dry.

He passed the Salutation Inn again, this time cutting across the rear of the pub before taking another shortcut through an alleyway. He ran towards the tanners, hurdling over the low brick wall with a yell of excitement mingled with fear, sneezing as the stench of tanning hides assaulted his nose.

Allan ran down the opposite side of the market place to the route Cassie would have taken, cursing his burning leg muscles and swearing to God that he would run sprints through the forest every day until his conditioning improved. He was just imagining how smug Much would look when a familiar scream reached his ears.

Stopping abruptly, Allan suddenly realised that his pursuers were no longer paying attention to him. He took the opportunity to dart into hiding behind a water barrel, then peered out of his hiding place at a commotion fifty yards away.

In the midst of a crowd of black-suited guards he could make out Cassie, her hair flying as she lashed out with feet and fists, but to no avail. She was massively outnumbered, and as he watched her arms were caught and twisted violently behind her back.

Letting out a furious yell Allan leapt up from his crouched position, shoving aside the barrel, fuelled by anger at the guards for touching her, for hurting her. As he reached for the dagger at his hip he was seized from behind, an arm wrapping around his shoulders and dragging him backwards. Allan pulled the dagger free of its sheath and twisted his arm behind his back, driving the blade firmly through the chain mail protecting the guard's stomach. With a grunt the man collapsed, his dead weight falling against Allan and sending him to the ground.

When he managed to scramble back to his feet, Cassie was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, I am finally back in the country, and finishing this story because I am in complete denial of how ridiculous season three was! I prefer to live in my own fantasy world and have thing finish up this way!


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